


Before Now

by starwarned



Series: Fictober 2020 [28]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fictober, Fictober 2020, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Watford (Simon Snow), Watford Seventh Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27261022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarned/pseuds/starwarned
Summary: Fictober 28prompt: "candles were enough" (Maggie Stiefvater)Simon and Baz have tension. (Even more than usual!)
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Fictober 2020 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951321
Comments: 3
Kudos: 87





	Before Now

**Author's Note:**

> prompt is from [this list](https://satise.tumblr.com/post/629280324527013888/some-of-my-artists-friends-and-i-felt-like-we) on tumblr!

There’s a new tension between Snow and me that I’m not certain could be considered a good thing. 

Most of our interactions would not be considered good things. Somehow, it’s worse now. 

I know the source of the tension. I know that I crossed the line with Agatha. Obviously, I have no interest in her. (No offense to her - she’s absolutely beautiful - but women aren’t particularly my type. So far, my type is morons with curls and unharnessed, god-like magickal abilities.) I was just doing it to get in Snow’s head. I think it worked.

Agatha and I tend to walk the same direction to our classes after lunch - obviously, not together. I’m a few metres behind Agatha with Dev by my side. 

“Wellbelove!” I’d called, ditching Dev with a smirk and rushing forward to fall in step with her. 

“Oh,” she’d said immediately. “Hello, Baz.” A pretty smile had floated over her features and I remember acknowledging what Snow saw in her. (Doesn’t mean I was going to stop my plans.) 

“There’s something caught in your hair,” I’d lied, grateful that she’d started to slow down because the door to her classroom was coming up. 

I could see Snow out of the corner of my eye. With Bunce. As always. 

Agatha had blushed and turned her head a bit. “Will you get it for me?” she’d asked. 

Who was I to deny her? 

There was nothing in her hair, but I had strategically put my left hand behind her head and mussed around with her hair so she’d think I was untangling it. I had leaned in close. Made a big show of putting my face right up close to her, practically level with her neck. 

(I now know that her blood smells delectable. Pretty people always have nice smells.) 

“Oi!” Snow had called from across the hallway. 

I had smirked and let go of Agatha.  _ Success _ . 

“Oh, hello, Snow,” I’d said, plastering the fakest and most sinister smile I could manage on my face. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he’d demanded, stepping right up close to me. 

I’d really tried not to think about how lovely he was - flushed cheeks, eyes reflecting the lights in the hallway, the collar of his shirt just undone enough for me to see a delicious amount of his collarbone. 

I’d frowned theatrically. “Whatever could you mean?” 

“Stay away from her.” 

“Relax, Snow. If I wanted her,” I’d said before leaning in closer to whisper to him. “I’d  _ have her _ .” 

And that’s when it happened. 

Simon Snow looked at me like he never had before. His eyes had softened, his usually-clenched jaw relaxed, his shoulders dropped, and he’d eyed me like he’d never properly looked before. It lasted far too long for comfort. 

By the time I’d broken the eye contact and looked up, multiple students had congregated around us. I had backed up and taken off, not sparing a glance behind me. 

So it’s weird now. 

Snow is sitting at his desk, but I know him well enough to recognize that he’s not getting any work done. His right leg is bouncing anxiously and he’s tapping his wand against his forehead. The open book in front of him is untouched. 

I’m on my bed. Watching. Waiting for something to happen. For Snow to explode. For him to leave the room. For my animal instinct to bite him to finally take over. 

He turns around and stares at me after another few moments of his pretending to be studying. 

“What?” I ask, looking up from my book. 

He furrows his eyebrows at me. “I’ve never looked at your eyes before,” he says. 

I frown. “What the fuck, Snow? We’ve lived together for seven years and you’ve never bothered to look at my eyes?” 

Snow blushes. “No, I mean, I just- I never noticed the color. They’re grey.” 

“I do in fact know what color my eyes are. Thank you,” I say sarcastically. I don’t want to have this conversation with him. There’s still that tension between us that I can’t particularly identify. 

“They’re nice.” 

I blink. And can’t say anything. (Did he just fucking compliment my eyes? What kind of spell did he accidentally place on himself this time?) 

He looks away from me. But before I can reclaim my pride and make a snide comment, he has stood up and is stalking towards me. I’d be afraid he was about to hex me if I didn’t know it would likely backfire and cause his hair to fall out or something (which would be a true travesty). Snow ends up right next to my bed. His knees are pressing into the edge of the mattress. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” I demand. 

“Testing a theory,” he mumbles. 

I have practically no time to prepare before he’s taking the liberty of kneeling on the edge of my bed. He leans forward and-

Kisses me. 

Puts his mouth on mine. 

Does this action mean something else in his world? 

Because in my world, this means  _ something _ . 

This means that Simon Snow doesn’t hate me. Perhaps. (Unless this is some sort of revenge plot - I’m not at the top of my intellectual game right now so I can’t dwell on that.) 

I suppose I’m kissing him back. It certainly feels like it, even if I’ve never done  _ this  _ before. I’ve never kissed anyone. I’ve never kissed Simon Snow. 

He has. Kissed someone. Agatha. 

_ Agatha.  _

I tug back. I regret it almost immediately. (What I would give to be kissing him again.) “Agatha,” I say breathlessly. 

He shakes his head. “Who cares?” 

“Her, assumedly.” 

“Can I do that again?” he asks. 

I nod before I think about it. 

He kisses me again. 

Spending the better part of the last two years attempting to hide my unrequited (and  _ very  _ inconvenient) feelings from my roommate has led to me not allowing myself to imagine this scenario. If I ever thought that Snow would kiss me, I figured it would be as I lay dying in his arms. Morbid? Absolutely. The most likely scenario?  _ Absolutely _ . 

When Snow pulls back, his chest heaving and his eyes wide, I know that I won’t be able to survive if this was our last kiss. 

Before I experienced it, I could have survived. I could have made it. 

Not now. 

It’s everything to me. 

_ He  _ is everything to me. 

_ I love you, Simon Snow.  _

_ I won’t tell you. But I am going to kiss you again.  _

**Author's Note:**

> find me on the [tumbles](snowybank.tumblr.com) if you so desire! 
> 
> we're almost to the end of this fictober thing! and then to write every single day for the carry on countdown event! I refuse to give myself a break apparently


End file.
